I am sorry, but if Elvis stopped backstage at my comedy show.
Elvis stopped backstage: And spoke to me?!
Even if he said I had an “oblique sense of humor,” I think my response would be something like:
So you’ve heard of me?! I knew it!
This is all true for writers too, of course.
“I hate what you write.” is 1,000x better than “I have never heard of you.”
One night, from my dressing room, I saw a vision in white gliding down the hall—a tall, striking woman, moving like an apparition along the backstage corridor. It turned out to be Priscilla Presley, coming to visit Ann-Margret backstage after having seen the show. When she turned the corner, she revealed an even more indelible presence walking behind her. Elvis. Dressed in white. Jet-black hair. A diamond-studded buckle. When Priscilla revealed Elvis to me, I was also revealed to Elvis. I’m sure he noticed that this twenty-five-year-old stick figure was frozen firmly to the ground. About to pass me by, Elvis stopped, looked at me, and said in his beautiful Mississippi drawl: “Son, you have an ob-leek sense of humor.”